


Blood & Tears

by orphan_account



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Hobbits, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Songfic, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-05-04
Updated: 2002-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Songfic for the Sentenced song by the same name.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Blood & Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Songfic for the Sentenced song by the same name.

A sharp stone struck the tenderer flesh between Frodo's toes, and stuck there. He took two more painful steps, the shard burying deeper, before he stopped to remove it. A drop of blood swelled from the wound. He dragged his feet one step further. And then another. The blood mixed with the ash of the plains of Gorgor.

It made no difference. His feet were blistered and broken anyway. Hobbit feet were sturdy, but the land here, and these hard miles, would have broken an iron boot. He looked up at Sam walking a step away, slowing down because of him and trying to look like he wasn't, and wondered if Sam's feet hurt as much. How could they not? He'd walked every same inch as Frodo had, and more.

A fiery ring framed Sam's head in Frodo's eyes, and he looked away. He walked on.

It would be so easy to just lie down here and refuse to walk another step. As soon as the thought entered his mind, his feet started screaming for him to do just that. Oh please, breathed the tired, stretched hobbit in him. Please let's lay down. It won't make any difference. You know there's no hope anyway.

No. No there isn't.

He'd known that for leagues, for days, for weeks and months. He wasn't sure why he didn't just lie down.

"Sam," he said. He squeezed the Ring in his fist, while it floated in the air before him and dragged him to the ground and encircled him and choked him. Then he felt Sam's hands on his fist, and the black smoke cleared a little. He let go of the Ring. The flesh of his palm ached slightly where it had carved another pink circle into it.

"We should go a little further, Mr Frodo, if you're up to it," Sam said. It was like he was talking about exploring the woods of the Shire, like there was some secret nook of natural beauty he was hoping to find before they had to turn back. Frodo couldn't remember what the Shire looked like, and Sam's voice was tired and coarse from thirst. But it was gentle. It was Sam. His heart grew a little stronger.

"Yes, let's go on a bit longer," said Frodo. If I lay down now, he thought, I will not get up again.

As they continued on, Frodo thought, selfishly, of how glad he was Sam was there. He had no strength left to think of Sam's best interest instead of his own.

Daydreams of death were dangerous, but they filled his mind as they walked. The mountain, the goal, loomed somewhere in the fog beyond the fiery wheel. Die they would. But not until they had done everything they could and there was no more thought or will or strength left, but once it was done, then.

And Sam would be there. Maybe they'd have enough strength to crawl into each other's arms and listen to each other's heartbeats fade. If only he could listen to Sam's voice when it was time, and remember the Shire. Maybe he would feel the sunlight before the end.

But...

...he did not want the Ring to swallow Sam and everything else at that moment. He had no hope left for himself. But he would not let the Ring take from him that last moment.

So he took another step.


End file.
